


Something In Common

by Gray Cardinal (Gray_Cardinal)



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Cardinal/pseuds/Gray%20Cardinal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Six hundred numbers in this phone, and guess how many of those I could call for help with this stuff."  Before Alexis could answer, Mandy Sutton made a game-show buzzer noise.  "That would be one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something In Common

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prettysophist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettysophist/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** Castle _is the creation of Andrew W. Marlowe and the Castleverse belongs (more or less) to ABC Studios. This story is purely a figment of the author’s imagination, and may or may not reflect the studio’s and show staff’s perspective on the characters._
> 
> **Notes:** _This story follows from events in the 6th season episode “Limelight”._

Alexis was working on a midterm essay for one of her English classes when her cell phone went off. It was the standard ringtone, so she let it cycle twice before glancing from one screen to the other, figuring she’d let whoever it was go to voicemail, but when she saw the caller ID – _M. SUTTON_ , formerly tween TV heroine Mandy Melody, presently worldwide pop star whose mother was awaiting trial for murder– she snatched up the phone.

“Mandy? Everything’s okay, I hope?”

There was a bark of laughter on the other end of the line. “As okay as it gets these days, which is mostly pretty damn good. I’m gonna owe you _forever_ for hooking me back up with Zach.”

“As long as you’re happy together, that’s what’s important.”

Mandy laughed again. “That’s what he says too.” Then the amusement went out of her voice. “Thing is, there’s some other issues I gotta deal with now – and I was kinda hoping you or your dad might help me out again.”

“Other—” Alexis blinked. “ _Oh_. Let me guess, it’s the business side.”

“Damn, girl, you are sharp.” There was more than a touch of bitterness in Mandy’s tone, but it clearly wasn’t directed at Alexis. “Yeah, Mom was running the whole show – which I was totally fine with, till now – but you saw how that turned out. So of course she hired all the lawyers and finance guys. Which means—”

“That they’re working for your mom, not necessarily for you,” Alexis put in.

“Exactly,” Mandy said. “And if I don’t get a handle on things damn fast, God only knows what Mom will do with the money. If she hasn’t already done it, that is.”

Alexis was nodding. “No kidding. So you need your own lawyer, like, yesterday.”

“Make that like last week. I don’t _think_ Mom can get at anything critical from lockup, but she’s got a bail hearing coming up. And if she gets out....”

“That,” Alexis agreed, “would be bad.” She mouse-clicked twice with her free hand, saving her essay and closing the word processor. “I’ve got an idea. Just let me make a couple of calls. Can you do lunch tomorrow?”

There was a momentary silence. “I can – but the paparazzi are still totally on my case.”

“I know a place they won’t hassle us – I’ll text you the address. Make it one o’clock?”

“I’m there,” Mandy said. “And thanks.”

#

At 1:04 the following afternoon, a waiter in old-fashioned British Navy garb led a young woman in form-fitting black silk capri pants, a neon-bright Spandex tie-dye top, and a black leather jacket across a green-carpeted dining room near the outskirts of New York City’s West Village. Only when she’d reached her destination did she push back long silver-streaked blonde hair, making eye contact with the younger of the table’s two occupants. “Alexis?”

“Mandy!” Alexis sucked in a startled breath and slid further into the booth, making room. “Nice work. You look...different.”

Mandy chuckled. “I _have_ had a lot of practice. Last time, if you remember, we were in a hell of a big hurry.”

Alexis grinned back. “True.”

The waiter cleared his throat. “Something to drink, ladies?”

“Diet Coke,” said Alexis.

“Sex on the—no, scratch that.” Mandy gave an abrupt shake of her head. “Virgin grapefruit blossom. I so do not need booze-brain right now.”

“Agreed,” observed the fortyish woman seated on the opposite bench, her tone approving. “Iced tea with lime, please.”

The waiter nodded and stepped briskly away as Mandy studied the booth’s third occupant, whose deep green blazer matched the restaurant’s décor just closely enough that she had been half-invisible against the upholstery. She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Have we met someplace?”

“Oh, sorry,” Alexis said hurriedly. “Mandy, this is Diana Ferriers; she’s a good friend of my Gram’s. Diana – Mandy Sutton.”

Mandy nodded, still thinking aloud. “Ferriers, Ferriers. Wait, I know – that live Central Park Christmas special I was on, what, three years back.” She snapped her fingers. “That was you, right?”

“Guilty as charged,” Diana said, smiling. “Winthrop-Ferriers Productions, to be precise.”

“Cool. No, wait—” Mandy’s gaze shifted to Alexis. “I thought you were finding me a lawyer, not a TV producer.”

Alexis’ voice was still slightly flustered. “That’s just it, she _is_ a lawyer. Sometimes, anyway.”

“Also true,” Diana put in. “It’s a family thing. My father was a lawyer before he went into TV and set up the company, and even after that he kept his bar status current – so I did the same thing. Mostly it’s useful for vetting all those contracts, but once in a while something more complicated comes along.”

“Diana and Grams go way back,” Alexis said, finally regaining her composure. “She hired Grams for a couple of movie roles, and Winthrop-Ferriers tried for the film rights to Dad’s Nikki Heat novels. You would have done a _way_ better job,” she added.

Diana laughed. “I won’t argue, but that’s old ground.” She turned her attention to Mandy. “I’ve seen the TV coverage, but we both know how inaccurate that can be. Still, I take it there’s no question of what your mother did?”

“Nope.” Mandy’s voice was tight. “And she won’t get out of it. No way.”

“Do you know if she’s trying to?”

Mandy frowned. “Not exactly. The DA’s trying to keep Mom locked up, but I don’t know how long they can get away with that, and I can’t get straight answers out of anyone I’ve talked to at the offices. _Any_ of the offices. Not Melody Media – that’s our production company – not the syndication guys, not even my music label.”

“That’s definitely a bad sign,” Diana agreed. “Three questions, then. First: you’re – twenty-two, I think?”

“Twenty-three in June.”

“Check. Second: do you have any urgent business or personal-finance issues that need to be resolved in – let’s say the next two weeks – that your mother would ordinarily have taken care of?”

Mandy was silent for several moments. “I don’t _think_ my cards are gonna start bouncing on me that soon. Six weeks, especially if Mom gets sprung – that could get interesting. No, the fun part’s gonna be the comeback tour Mom was setting up. She was way more into that than I was. Plus,” she added, glancing wryly at Alexis, “the whole world knows how me and touring get along. ‘Ain’t pretty’ totally doesn’t cover it. I’d _like_ to drop-kick that whole plan into a black hole and move to Montana with Zach, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Your fans would miss you if you did,” Alexis said. “Well, not the so-needed-rehab you, but the musical you. It sounds corny, but you’ve done a lot of good for a lot of people.”

“That is so cliché,” Mandy said. “Still—”

“Still,” said Diana, “the tour situation absolutely counts as urgent. Also, complicated, but we’ll deal with it in due time. On to number three: do you recall what documents you may have signed giving your mother the authority to manage your business and financial affairs – and where we can find copies?”

Mandy sighed theatrically. “In other words, how much of this is me being a prize idiot? And the hell of it is, I don’t even know.”

Diana’s eyebrows shot up. “Would that have to do with your – medical issues?”

“Partly,” Mandy said at once. “Did she have me sign stuff when I was zoned out or stone drunk? Hell, yeah – but then at least some of that would have been rehab paperwork, and I kinda did need rehab. No, the real trouble is all that junk didn’t do my regular memory any favors – so now I can’t remember what Mom did right after I turned eighteen, or where those files are. Melody Media _should_ have them...”

“...but they’re not talking to you,” Diana said. “That clinches it. You do need proper representation of your own – and probably a good forensic accountant, but that’s after we get hold of the books. Assuming, that is,” she added, glancing briefly at Alexis, “that you want me to take you on as a client.”

“Want you?” Mandy echoed. “Ms. Ferriers, I need you like Iron Man needs Gwyneth Paltrow. In a CEO way, I mean, not the other – oh hell, forget that. Just one thing: even if I turn out to be totally bankrupt when this is over, I’m gonna see you get properly paid.”

“Call me Diana,” the older woman said, smiling. “And I doubt you need worry about going broke. However,” she added, “we do need to move quickly. Forgive me, but I should get back to my office. With luck, we can get the first round of court orders filed before the end of the day.” She drew a business card from her purse. “Drop by this afternoon, and we’ll get our own paperwork in order.” She paused, took a long sip from her glass of iced tea, and slid smoothly out of the booth. “We’ll talk again soon. Until then: keep trusting your instincts.”

Alexis’ gaze followed Diana as she wove her way out of the dining room. “Maybe you should go with her,” she said, her voice tentative. “There’s a lot of stuff you’ll have to nail down.”

“There is,“ Mandy agreed, rising to her own feet. Then she took a quick step and slid back into the booth, seating herself across from Alexis. “But not right now. Right now, instinct says it’s time for me to buy lunch – for me, because I kinda skipped breakfast, and for you, because now I owe you way past forever.” She gave the waiter, who had chosen that moment to reappear, a quizzical look. “Are you _sure_ ‘Crab Louise’ isn’t a typo?”

“Not at all, miss. The Louise dressing is a Spanish vinaigrette with capers, and the salad includes chopped sun-dried tomatoes and three varieties of olives.”

“Sounds great. I’ll take that, another of these—” Mandy tapped her glass, “—and set us up with the some-of-everything appetizer plate.” She flipped a hand casually toward Alexis. “Your turn.”

“Smoked salmon panini with the Greek salad, extra bruschetta on that appetizer plate – oh, and another diet Coke.” But after the waiter had whisked himself away again, Alexis leaned forward, regarding Mandy with a serious expression. “About that owing thing: no way am I keeping score. I just want to be sure you and Zach are good and the business stuff with your mom gets sorted out.”

Mandy’s return gaze was abruptly fierce. “Do _not_ pull the no-big-deal act on me,” she said, pulling out her cell phone. “I’ve got six hundred contacts in here, and a bunch of ‘em could’ve put together the setup Mom worked on me and Zach. But did anybody else call me and clue me in? Hell, no.”

Alexis tried to interrupt. “I’m sure—”

Mandy just kept going. “And just guess how many of those guys I could call and get a lawyer ref I might actually trust.” She made a game-show buzzer noise, then held up an index finger. “That would be one. And here we are.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Totally,” Mandy said. “Oh, sure, there’s folks who’d offer me phone numbers for lawyers and stuff – ‘cause there’d be a kickback or it was their cousin or something. If I want to party or hang out or screw or get smashed, I’ve got stupid numbers of people on speed dial. But that’s about the fun or the glam or the pills.”

Alexis sucked in a breath. “What about Zach?”

Mandy’s eyes brightened by a factor of three. “If I needed a lawyer who knew housing codes and nonprofit stuff, Zach could find one with one hand tied behind his back. One who knows show biz? Not so much.” She paused, taking a deep breath of her own. “Remember when you told me about not having anyone to talk to? After what happened with Mom – I can relate.”

At that moment, the waiter arrived with the appetizer plate, and conversation stopped for several minutes as Alexis homed in on grilled pineapple spears and bruschetta with bay scallop tapenade while Mandy mounted an assault on tempura calamari rings and inch-square cubes of deep-fried smoked salmon. Eventually, only a scattering of arugula leaves, squeezed lemon wedges, and a single steamed prawn remained on the main platter, and all five ramekins of dipping sauce were mostly empty.

Alexis broke the abruptly pregnant silence. “So we’ve got something in common after all.”

“The nobody-to-talk-to thing?” Mandy gave a brief, dry laugh. “Maybe. You’ve still got your dad. Who is – do not tell him I said this – pretty damn cool. I Googled him, after what went down with Jesse.”

“God, no,” said Alexis. “He’d be impossible for a week. But...” She paused, looking thoughtful. “It isn’t the same. Dad’s – well, Dad. Totally cool, yes. And he says we can talk about anything, and actually means it. But when the _anything_ is my love life?”

Mandy nodded. “Good point. For that you want a BFF – only I don’t get it. How does the brightest girl in the room not have a whole crowd of BFFs?”

It was Alexis’ turn to chuckle wryly and gesture at her messenger bag. “We’ve got the same phone,” she said. “Lots of contacts, none who’ll keep secrets. I was always the kid who got along better with grownups – it went with having to _be_ the grownup a lot at home. You said you Googled Dad....”

“Oh, yeah – and not just the official promo stuff. Bad boy of page six, that’s him. Likes the arm candy, buys guy-toys like I buy bling, gets thrown out of some really edgy clubs, and did he really ride that horse in the buff?”

“Do _not_ remind me,” Alexis said fervently. “When I got my first cell, the second number I put on speed dial was his lawyer. Don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “He’s absolutely the world’s most awesome Dad. But he has to work really hard sometimes on the whole grownup thing. Although,” she added, ”he’s gotten better since he and Detective Beckett got together.”

The smile Mandy gave her was more than a little wistful. “Yeah,” she said, “the being-in-love thing can do that. But I’m betting he was totally there for you even before she came along. My mom, even before she went off the rails? Not so much.” She sighed. “Now I’m gonna have to be my own grownup, and I am so not looking forward to it.”

“You’ll get by. You’ve got Zach,” Alexis told her. “And – there’s your music. Grams says one reason she likes theater way better than TV or movies is the live audience. ‘Emotional energy violates the laws of physics,’ she says. ‘When there’s a strong connection, you _always_ get more of it out than you put in.’ I know you’ve got issues with touring....”

“Issues? That’s—” Before Mandy could finish the sentence, their waiter returned, bringing entrées and whisking away surplus tableware. Again, conversation halted briefly in favor of food, but after a few bites, Mandy took a breath and picked up where she’d left off.

“I just don’t know,” she said. “Your grandma’s not wrong, but those arenas are so freaking _huge_. There’s energy, yeah –so much damn energy I can’t deal with it all at once. Overload’s what it is. And then once I’m offstage it’s gone, and I crash, and I go looking for some other rush to get it back.” Mandy threw up her hands. “And I _cannot_ keep riding that roller coaster.”

Alexis’ head was bobbing. “Definitely not. Maybe – smaller houses? I mean okay, you couldn’t just do nightclub gigs without getting completely mobbed, but nothing says you have to do Radio City or Madison Square Garden. Does it?”

Mandy shrugged. “That’s part of what I need Ms. Ferriers to find out. I’ve got an album pretty much done, and a lot of what’s on it would work real well for something like that. The music-label guys might freak, though – I think they get part of the action on ticket sales. The question is how far along Mom got with nailing down a schedule.”

She took a bite of crab, chewed for a moment, then abruptly set down her fork. “The thing with your guy. Did you get that worked out?”

Alexis blinked. “Um, yeah. It was kind of weird, actually. I was expecting this big emotional _thing_ , and he was all no, I get it, it’s cool, when do you need me out. And I said a week, and two days later he was packed and gone. And it is _such_ a relief. Things with Dad are so much better, and Kate – Detective Beckett – and I are finally starting to talk things out too.”

She flicked a breadcrumb into her napkin, and looked Mandy squarely in the eye. “ _Thank you_ for the wake-up call. And do not,” she added with a mischievous giggle, “pull the no-big-deal act on me.”

Mandy stared at Alexis for a moment, then broke into unexpected laughter. “Okay,” she said once she’d managed to catch her breath, “I give. There is no keeping score – but you are totally staying on my speed dial.”

Alexis grinned. “I’m good with that. And I absolutely want to know how things work out with the tour. And the album.”

“I’ll keep you posted. Probably more often than you want.”

“Not likely.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t.” Alexis’ purse _bleep_ ed; she pulled out her cell and glanced at the screen. “Wow, time flies. If you’re going to catch Diana today—”

“There you go, being the grownup again.” The words might have been dry, but Mandy’s tone was amused. “Maybe you ought to come with,” she said, “to help keep me on track.”

Alexis shook her head. “Can’t today. I’ve got classwork to finish.”

“Like I said, being the grownup.” Mandy pursed her lips. “Picked a major yet?”

“Still thinking about it,” said Alexis. “Maybe something creative, like Dad and Grams, maybe public service, like Kate. Dad says everything’s a story – I’m just not sure what mine’s about, yet.”

Mandy gave her a thoughtful look. “Tell you what. Maybe not today, but sometime soon we _are_ getting you in to see Ms. Ferriers. Because producers like her? Are the grownups of show biz – they get the big bucks to keep all of us crazy performers in line. And I just bet,” she said, “that you’d be damn good at that.”

Alexis didn’t speak at once, even when Mandy quickly produced a metallic-edged credit card in response to the waiter’s arrival with the check. “It’s a good thing we’re not keeping score,” she said at last, as they both collected their jackets. “If that idea of yours pans out, I might end up owing you for a whole career.”

Mandy laughed again. “Let’s hope. Then it’ll be something else we have in common.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Notes:** The character of Diana Winthrop Ferriers is extrapolated from that of Diana Winthrop, the teen-aged heroine of a series of mysteries by “Kate Chambers” (a pen name for Norma Johnston) published in the early 1980s, which was evidently read by no more than a dozen people. The present story requires no knowledge of the prior series and contains no plot spoilers for any of the individual books. Given the 30-year time jump and the extreme obscurity of the original novels, I consider this usage more of an Easter egg than a crossover – it simply happened that I needed a New York-based lawyer with entertainment industry expertise, and then realized I knew where to find one.


End file.
